


The Dubious Glow of Excess

by bigbootyboy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Decapitation, Explicit rating for later chapters, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Murder, tags to be added as I update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-12 04:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigbootyboy/pseuds/bigbootyboy
Summary: A crime spree is the best way to fall in love. (fic is going to remain unfinished - i'm planning to rework it into a new story that includes the new lore)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first Roadrat fic and the first fic I've written in ages. The entire rough draft is complete and I'll be updating as I polish everything up. This chapter is mostly an intro to everything :]
> 
> Apologies to any Aussie readers for the fact that I'm painfully American
> 
> Fic title shamelessly stolen from a song by Good Riddance

August 2074

Roadhog saw himself as a simple man. There were a few things he liked: the feel of a gun in his hands, the crack of a neck under his fingers, the scream he elicited when his hook dug into someone's back. Those things made him feel powerful.

In another life, Roadhog had been a very different man. Today, he was a bounty hunter, and he was good at what he did. He maintained his reputation with an iron fist. If you wanted someone dead, and you had the money, you went to Roadhog. So it was no surprise when some slimy suit finally tracked him down to hunt the most wanted man in the Outback. 

The man, a junker called Junkrat, had managed to enter the shell of the Omnium and live to tell the tale, coming out boasting a powerful secret. Rumor has it that the man was mad, completely bonkers. He was obsessed with explosives, and even if anyone wanted to enter the Omnium after Junkrat had left it, they'd wind up with a leg or two blown off from the traps he'd laid to protect his secret.

In his past, that secret would have been of great interest to Roadhog. Mako Rutledge would have desperately wanted that information. A past Roadhog, but not Mako, would have tortured the man for it. But the Roadhog of today had put that part of his past behind him, tucked away with most other connections to his humanity. Finding this Junkrat was just another job to him.

Like Roadhog, few junkers seemed to care about the nature of Junkrat's information, they simply wanted the reward money that the suits had put out. The suits, though, seemed to think he knew something of great value, and were ready to torture it out of him once he was caught. But the bastard was a slippery one, and most of the junkers and bounty hunters who had been after him wound up dead. That didn't worry Roadhog much.

Tracking him down had not been hard. The man left a trail of destruction and angry mobs wherever he went, and word of his whereabouts traveled fast.

Roadhog followed him to a small town he'd been rumored to be headed for. Like most junkertowns, Tannis' Peak was built originally as a hurried camp for refugees after the Omnium blew, and its residents built up a community around it. The streets were dusty and the buildings ramshackle, nothing more than two stories tall.

It was midday when Roadhog arrived. It was a nice day out, the winter weather finding a happy medium between too hot and uncomfortably cool. Still, there were no residents out; they probably knew there was an explosive-happy maniac visiting and chose to stay indoors.

He checked out the general store, finding it empty except for a terrified cashier, before heading into the tavern next door.

Junkrat was, as Roadhog had been told, not hard to spot. He was tall - not as tall as Roadhog, but a rough six and a half feet, nothing to scoff at. His photos showed wild, patchy blond hair and a wicked smile.

Their eyes met - Junkrat was hunched over at a table, and if Roadhog didn't know any better, he'd have called Junkrat's expression excited. The man stood, pulling a detonator out of his pocket.

"Ah! Don't take one more step, and don't even _think_ about using that hook," he said, holding a finger over the big red button. Roadhog knew this wasn't a bluff, so he stopped - he wasn't about to get blown up for a job, and he knew he could find another way to get the man. "You're Roadhog, right?" He still had this big grin on his face, like he was meeting a superhero. Roadhog nodded. "I'm so glad you came for me! Listen, I've got a deal you can't refuse."

Roadhog laughed. A lot of his victims tried to make deals with him, and they were never worth taking.l

Junkrat ignored the laugh and continued, "I've been doing this solo thing for a long time, and it's worked out pretty well for me. But now the bounties are getting a bit high. So, I was thinking I'd hire a bodyguard and start a real crime spree, and who better to be my bodyguard than the toughest guy in the Outback? And here's the best part - you get 50% of all profits, including that secret everyone wants me for!" He giggled, a shrill and obnoxious sound.

"No."

"Come onnn," he whined - actually whined, like a kid asking for candy and not a madman asking for a business partner. "It'll be great! You, me, the wide open desert, lots of cash..."

Roadhog stared down at him. He stared at the thumb on the button.

"Fine."

Junkrat's smile returned, and he came in for a handshake. Once he was in range, Roadhog knocked him out with the side of his gun to his head.

He tied Junkrat up, in case he woke up during the long drive to the compound he was meeting his employer at. He wanted to take off the prosthetics, but he knew they were probably wired - Junkrat was clearly not the type to care if he took himself out along with an attacker - so he did what he could to account for them. Junkrat's backpack was full of bombs, as expected, and Roadhog took it to hand over to the suit.

Junkrat was stuffed on the back of the bike, and Roadhog could only hope he wouldn't wake up and cause trouble. He didn't often take live bodies back to people. Didn't like the risks, didn't like the lack of gore. Living people caused a degree of unpredictability

For the first two hours of the drive, things went smoothly. Roadhog was looking forward to the reward money; maybe he would hire somebody to build him a new gun that fit his hands better, as his current custom-made gun had been made too small.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Junkrat completely untied, standing up on the back of the bike, using Roadhog's shoulder as support. They made eye contact and Junkrat smiled.

Roadhog hit the breaks. Junkrat went flying off, landing on the sand on his ass.

"Oi! Did I startle ya?"

Roadhog grabbed his gun, pointing it at the man with one hand as he gathered the ropes with the other. Junkrat shrugged. "If you kill me you won't get the reward."

"Don't care," Roadhog said. It was true - the money was good, but he was getting increasingly irritated. He gestured with his gun for Junkrat to get on his stomach, but he didn't budge.

"If you shoot me, the explosion will definitely kill you!" Junkrat laughed.

Roadhog had had enough. He kept his gun pointed at the man as he went back to his bike and climbed on.

"Wait, where are you going?!" Junkrat yelled.

"Leaving you here," Roadhog started the bike. He watched as Junkrat looked around him, seeing the vast wasteland around them, stretching for kilometers. Roadhog hoped he would choose to come along - he could escape torture, there was no way he could survive this desert.

"Wait! I'll go, I'll go!" Junkrat made a show of holding his hands out together to be tied.

Roadhog smiled under his mask as he turned off the motor and got back off the bike, rope in hand. He ignored Junkrat's dramatic pose and shoved him down face-first into the sand.

"Take off your prosthetics," Roadhog said.

"Oh come on!" Junkrat sat back up and glared at Roadhog. He started taking off his leg, grumbling about the indignity of it all. Once his limbs were off, Roadhog set to work tying him up again. "Usually don't let blokes tie me up til after dinner."

Roadhog ignored him as he continued to tie him up.

"I swear, you and I could go places. Imagine! The crime. The mayhem. Together we could accomplish more than you could dream to do alone."

He sounded like a supervillain. Roadhog finally let out a chuckle.

"See! See big man, you like me!"

Roadhog stared down at the man as he finished his work. He was tied up and grinning at Roadhog with such earnest hope. What did he even want from Roadhog? He hadn't been paying attention. A partnership? The words "fifty-fifty" rang through his head.

"Your secret must be worth a lot if so many suits are after you."

"You have no idea," the man kept smiling.

And it had to do with the Omnium. This man had been inside and come out alive - a feat no other scavenger had accomplished in the nearly twenty years since it blew. Roadhog admitted a _little_ curiosity as he grabbed Junkrat and tossed him over his shoulder.

"How much you reckon you can sell that secret for?"

"At least three times as much as they want for me," Junkrat replied. "And you'd get half a cut of anything else we get up to."

Roadhog took a moment to think. This guy was annoying, sure. Potentially completely insane. But he had to be good to be alive, and Roadhog could always back out and turn him in if he got sick of it...

He pulled the man down from his shoulder and tossed him back into the sand. "You got a deal."

Junkrat put that dumb grin back on his face as he stared up at Roadhog.

"Right! Hey, this is a great thing we're about to have going. You gonna untie me?"

Roadhog went to work undoing the bindings he'd just put on, and Junkrat immediately began to chatter. Roadhog was already mourning the concept of peace and quiet.

"So, crime spree, yeah? Look, I got a great lead for where we can start, this gang's been hassling me, thought we could rough 'em up a bit, steal some shit, make a statement, you know?"

Roadhog grunted in agreement as he tugged the last bit of rope loose. He tossed the prosthetics and Junkrat's backpack in his direction. Junkrat continued talking as he put his limbs on, and when he was done he sprang up, extending a metal hand for a shake. Roadhog reluctantly took it. His hand dwarfed Junkrat's, he could easily snap the metal in his hand should he choose. A nice thing to keep in mind, should he get tired of his new employer.

Junkrat took a moment to look around them again. "Where are we anyway? And who hired you?"

"About 40 minutes north of Gasoline Springs. Giles Digby."

"Ha! That old fucker's still mad I robbed him! Did you know he lives in a whole _compound_. All that money while the rest of us are out here eating bugs."

Roadhog grunted in agreement; he didn't like suits either, even if he worked for them sometimes. Roadhog may have had money, for a junker - but most of that money went to food, fuel, and ammo. The truly rich of the outback lived luxurious lives. They had the money to cure radiation sickness, resources to live comfortably in a wasteland. The apocalypse hadn't affected them in the slightest.

He got on his bike, sighing as he realized he'd now have to deal with an awake, untied Junkrat sharing the bike with him. "Don't stand up this time," he grumbled as Junkrat climbed on behind him.

"Yeah yeah," Junkrat waved him off. "So, where are we headed?"

He had a sidecar stashed away at his old safehouse, and that seemed like a good place to convene and plan their next steps. Junkrat agreed, so they set off, Roadhog wondering why he'd let himself get dragged into this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who left kudos and comments! They mean a lot to me!

It was about a four hour ride to the safehouse, and there were several times Roadhog was tempted to knock Junkrat out again in the name of getting some peace and quiet. Junkrat, for the most part, wasn't even talking about anything important, just recounting the last few weeks of his life, which had apparently consisted of:

1\. Getting chased out of three separate towns  
2\. Stealing food from a dingo  
3\. Going back to the first town he was run out of to tag his name on the welcome sign

And so on. He did at one point discuss the gang they would be targeting, but Roadhog had been zoning out by that point, and would ask him to recount it later. He doubted Junkrat would mind telling the story again.

"We're here," Roadhog grumbled, interrupting Junkrat's story of pissing his own name in the dirt. They were off road and had been for quite a while. The landscape dipped into a ravine, and a small shack sat nestled against a cliff wall. Roadhog parked in front and Junkrat hopped off, looking around at the trash and scrap surrounding them.

"Nice place," he said, and Roadhog couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

The shack, while old, was outfitted with a fingerprint scanner, and as Roadhog used it, Junkrat stared the whole time.

"Never actually seen one of those bein used before," Junkrat said. Roadhog ignored him and went into the shack.

The place had seen better days - he hadn't needed to visit in some time and a lot of dust had settled. The sidecar was in the center of the room. The sides of the room were lined with shelves, with a large mattress tucked into a one corner and a machine used for making hogdrogen in the other, with a door to a small bathroom in the back.

There was an oxygen tank full of hogdrogen that could be used to refill his canisters, and he took it and set it by the sidecar. Then he grabbed a few bags and started collecting anything that would be useful for travel - hogdrogen canisters, canned food, bullets, a first aid kit for Junkrat.

After getting everything ready for the morning, Roadhog rolled the sidecar out. As soon as he stepped outside, he saw Junkrat on the ground, surrounded by the torn apart pieces of his fingerprint scanner.

Junkrat jumped at Roadhog's appearance, and tried in vain to hide what he'd done as Roadhog stared down at him.

"I was curious how it worked! I'll put it back together, promise!"

"You'd better," was all Roadhog said as he continued pushing the sidecar over to the bike. He set to work attaching it, tuning out the sounds of Junkrat muttering to himself as he put the scanner back together.

When all was said and done, the door fixed and the sidecar attached, Junkrat inspected his new ride. "Could use some decorations," he offered, patting the grey metal.

"No."

"Oh come on! I'm a great artiste," Junkrat put his hands on his hips, glaring. "Not all of us can pull off the sexy biker look, okay? Some of us need a bit more color in our lives!"

Before he could stop himself, Roadhog let out a small chuckle. Junkrat looked pleased with that.

Roadhog set up a fire while Junkrat laid out traps around the bike, in case anyone tried to ambush them in the night. After heating two cans of ravioli, he handed one to Junkrat, who had come to sit by the fire once the traps were set. Roadhog lifted his mask to eat, and he was thankful that Junkrat minded his own business. It was hard to see with his mask lifted, but he was used to eating this way.

"Tell me about the gang," Roadhog said, before Junkrat had a chance to distract him.

"Right! It's Badbones' crew," Junkrat said. Roadhog nodded; Billy Badbones ran a gang called Fodder, one of the many that existed out in the wastelands. Roadhog had been on both sides of a conflict with Fodder before. "Ol' Billy's had it out for me since before I even went in that Omnium. I may have blown up his car. He wanted me dead before, but now he wants to turn me in. He's been sending guys after me. Starting to get on a first name basis with a couple of them. They've got a hideout outside Haven, figure we could go in, steal some shit, take some heads. Literally or figuratively. Make a real statement."

"You're the boss," Roadhog said, pulling his mask back down as he finished his dinner. Junkrat stared at him wide-eyed for a second, then broke out into a huge grin.

"Never been someone's boss before. It's a plan, then! So," he scooted a tiny bit closer to Roadhog, "tell me about yourself."

"No."

A normal person would have taken the hint. Junkrat didn't. "C'mon, we should at least know a little about each other if we're going to be partners!"

"I like to kill," Roadhog said. That was about as deep as he was willing to go.

"That's a start!" Junkrat patted him on the shoulder. Roadhog normally would have snapped a neck for that, but he was still trying to give Junkrat a chance, so he bit his tongue. "Me, I like building things that kill people. Especially explosives, but you already knew that. I also like art," he pointed at the big smiley face on his pants. "I made this!"

Roadhog didn't really know what to say, the smiley face wasn't appealing to him at all, but it did suit Junkrat. "It fits you," he finally said.

"I also designed my tattoo," he turned to show Roadhog his bicep, a skull with dynamite sticks for crossbones. That also suited Junkrat. "Hey, speaking of ink, I like yours, when did you get it?"

Roadhog stiffened a little, not wanting to answer on instinct; the tattoo had been Before, when the world was a different place and he was a different person. As much as he'd made it a part of his identity now, it was still technically a relic of his past and existence before the explosion. "A little under 20 years ago," he said, opting to leave it vague.

Junkrat's eyes got wide again, "Wow! I knew you were old, but that's a long time ago!"

Roadhog had been expecting just about any response but that; he wasn't used to people being brave enough to call him _old_ , of all things. Junkrat didn't even seem to consider that the comment was rude, or that his mouth was putting him at risk for a fist in the face. In a weird way, Roadhog respected that.

He found himself laughing, for the third time since meeting Junkrat earlier today. This was strange, but this entire situation he'd found himself in was strange altogether. This morning he was prepared to turn Junkrat in for a significant amount of money, and now he was sitting here laughing with him.

"It's getting late," Junkrat said, after a moment. "You got a bed in there?"

"You're sleeping on the floor."

Junkrat frowned but didn't argue. They put out the fire and left their empty food cans on the ground as they went inside. As he settled in on the mattress, Roadhog tossed a blanket to Junkrat, who was curling up on the floor. Junkrat wished him goodnight, and he grunted in reply.

\--

Roadhog woke up before Junkrat, and after using the bathroom he took off his mask to shave, not knowing when his next chance would be. Seeing his own face in the mirror was often a harsh reminder that he was still human. He knew there were rumors that he had a badly scarred or mangled face, that he wore the mask to hide it - no, he was really quite an average looking man, aside from the ring through his septum. The mask served other purposes: to hide his expressions, to hide his humanity.

He finished shaving and put his mask back on, comfortable once again. When he left the bathroom Junkrat was awake and staring at what looked like a map.

"Some junker who used to be part of Fodder drew me up a map of the warehouse a couple weeks back," he said, motioning Roadhog over to look. "They've got an armory near the back, see? We can blow a hole here and waltz right in. We just kill anyone who gets in the way!"

"You sure you can trust the guy who drew this?"

"Nah, but a little challenge wouldn't be so bad!"

Roadhog had his doubts, but he was willing to let Junkrat be the boss - for now, at least.

They got on the road soon, Junkrat in the sidecar fussing with bits of scrap, trying to convert them to a proper bomb. Roadhog briefly wondered how he ended up in this position, going on a crime spree with a perfect stranger, and to his surprise he found he didn't care - this was a new adventure. His life had become monotonous lately, and it's not like he had a chance to redeem himself in the eyes of the law, anyway.

He wasn't sure how he felt about his new partner. The guy was odd. Maybe not quite as mad as his reputation, but still a bit off. Nothing that set off any alarm bells for Roadhog, except ones that told him he might have his work cut out for him, keeping Junkrat safe.

He glanced at Junkrat, and Junkrat looked back, hair blowing in the wind with a big smile. Junkrat couldn't tell, but Roadhog looked him in the eyes, and he noticed what a strange color they were, almost like fire. Before he could consider it further, there was a thump under the tires of the bike, and Roadhog made an emergency stop. 

"Lunch!" Junkrat called, already having jumped out of the sidecar. He held up what looked like was once a rabbit.

Roadhog was sure he was joking, but moments later Junkrat was gathering up sticks to build a fire on the side of the road. Roadhog reluctantly pulled the bike off the road and got off to join him. He wasn't necessarily opposed to roadkill, but he didn't _need_ to eat it to survive, the way Junkrat seemed to be used to.

He supposed fresh meat wouldn't be so bad.

They made a quick fire and cooked what they could salvage from the meat. It wasn't terrible, and it was free, so Roadhog wasn't complaining.

"You don't say much," Junkrat said, mouth full of rabbit.

"Don't have much to say," Roadhog shrugged.

"I was always told I talk too much, so that evens it out, spose."

After another hour of travel, they made it to the outskirts of Haven, and Junkrat pulled out his map again. On the back were directions to the hideout. To Roadhog's surprise, the directions were accurate. They came upon the old warehouse, a big grey, square building with few windows.

"Not many cars out front," Junkrat noted, sounding a bit disappointed. "Too bad. Less people to fight."

"That should be a good thing," Roadhog said.

"Where's the fun in that?"

Roadhog shook his head. He parked in the front parking lot, per Junkrat's instructions, and they walked around to the back of the building. After scanning the area for a good spot to blow a hole, Junkrat settled on an area and carefully laid out his explosives. Once he was satisfied the pair backed away a reasonable distance.

The explosion blasted a hole into what appeared to be a gym. There were a few men cowering from the blast, but when they saw Junkrat and Roadhog approaching, they grabbed guns to stand their ground.

Junkrat had brought a machete to protect himself, but not much else, and he ducked behind Roadhog when he saw the guns.

"Run if you want to get away with your life!" he shouted from behind Roadhog's back.

One person chose to run, and the other three stayed. One fired a shot, and Roadhog felt the harsh pain of a bullet grazing his arm. It wasn't a deep enough wound to deal with now, so he shrugged it off and threw his hook out to grab the closest man and pull him in. There was a giggle from behind him as he shot the man in the head. 

An alarm started blaring, likely set off by the man who had run. Shouts could be heard coming from further inside and Roadhog looked at the other two men, who were now shooting at him. He hooked one around the neck, and it snapped before he could even react. The last attacker thought twice about his predicament before deciding to run off - Roadhog let him, he wanted word to travel that they were willing to kill anyone in their way.

The immediate threats gone, Roadhog pulled out a hogdrogen canister as Junkrat skittered out from behind him, whooping excitedly. He paused to watch when he saw Roadhog lift the canister to his mask.

"What's that?" Junkrat asked as Roadhog felt his skin from the bullet graze closing up.

"It heals wounds," Roadhog said.

"Remind me to ask you about that later," Junkrat said, as he made his way to the closest body to loot. 

He pocketed a few coins and started stripping the man of his leather jacket. Roadhog stared down at him, and Junkrat, clearly feeling judged, defended himself. "It's a nice jacket, he's not using it anymore."

Roadhog sighed as Junkrat shoved the jacket into their loot bag. He also grabbed the guns from both men (putting them in the bag, claiming he had no idea how to shoot) and a few more coins.

They made their way in, repeating the murder-and-loot process with any encounters who chose not to run, and hoped that those who did would tell Badbones what they'd seen. As the cars out front had indicated, the place was emptier than they'd hoped, but the massacre was still a decent size.

The armory was right where Junkrat had been told, the room full of explosives and guns. Junkrat hummed and sighed at the quality of the bombs as he bagged them (less carefully than Roadhog would have liked), and Roadhog couldn't use any of the guns, because his hands were too big, but they made an agreement that Roadhog would get the bullets and Junkrat would use the guns to make explosives. He seemed pleased to be using his enemy's guns as scrap.

"Feel like if we want to make a statement, we oughta really make a statement, Junkrat said, dragging one of the nearby bodies into the room. He grabbed his machete and got to work cutting his head off. Roadhog had to admit, he was impressed with the display.

Junkrat carried the head around with him as he set up bombs around the warehouse ("I think I'll call him Carlton," he'd said.) When he was pleased with his setup, they went out the front entrance and into the front parking lot. He dug through his bag in Roadhog's bike and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbled something down on the paper before setting it down on one of the cars, using Carlton as a paperweight.

"A message for Badbones. Hope it doesn't fall off when we blow the place up," he said. Roadhog looked at the note:

"Hi.  
\- Junkrat and Roadhog"

Roadhog would have gone with something more poetic and "Hi" and a head-paperweight - maybe he'd have stuck the head on a pike and left it there - but Junkrat was in charge here, so he let it go.

As they drove off, Junkrat hit his detonator, turning around in his sidecar to watch the explosion. The blast sounded pretty big but Roadhog was looking at the road ahead. Junkrat hollered in excitement, and when he turned back around he slapped Roadhog on the arm, yelling "We did it!"

Roadhog had to admit, the whole thing had been pretty fun.

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE thank you to all my friends who have helped me put this together, whether directly helping with plotlines or just listening to me sob over this fic for the past several weeks


End file.
